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“the most destructive tornado in the history of the world.” thousands upon thousands of families displaced. death toll rising. two elementary schools demolished. TWO! heartbreaking doesn’t even begin to describe it.

as our state cries, prays, pitches in (because that’s what we do), and mourns together, it’s hard not to ask the impossible questions. WHY would God allow this?! HOW is this part of His perfect plan?! WHERE is God when schoolchildren are clinging to each other while the building is torn apart around them?

even after decades of trusting and believing in God, my reflex is to cry out in frustration, sorrow, and anger. because while i can see God in the instinctive, selfless, generous relief efforts of the oklahoma family… it’s hard to reconcile the devastation and grief that destruction of this magnitude brings.

if there’s anything i’ve learned from enduring senseless, life-changing loss, it’s that God is still God, He is still Good, and He is still near. i’ve felt the pain and defeat of losing a battle despite our most earnest prayers, valiant efforts, and steadfast faith. i’ve questioned my convictions and struggled to find purpose in tragedy.

and i unreservedly choose — day by day, through each new trial — to glorify God and seek His divine comfort through the healing and rebuilding. He is close to the brokenhearted, and He’s not leaving.

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out little enigma continues to perplex us in many ways, but we are becoming more connected all the time. in my sixth month as someone’s mother, i’ve also noticed that

motherhood is conditioning.

my intuition is being trained by my need to for sharp senses as i acclimate to being on the job round-the-clock. it’s cool to know that graham’s skills and reflexes are under intense training right now, too.

my entire body is being strengthened by the marathon of picking up and carrying and putting down and bending over and bathing and dressing 17.5 pounds of active human. it’s fun to see my baby’s body gain strength as well.

my character is being toned by the continual surrender to the adventure, the role, the responsibilities, and the story. it’s amazing to watch my son’s characteristics also develop with each learning-packed day.

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graham’s growth has not slowed in the last month – he stretched more than an inch and gained another pound. we also (gratefully) had a night-time sleeping breakthrough this month. i think we (and he) finally figured out that particular puzzle.

while his reflexes and fine-motor skills are advanced for his age, he is still in no hurry to be mobile. the day after he turned five months he rolled over once. he performed the trick once more the next day…and then only a handful of times over the course of the month. the day before he turned six months, he finally decided it could take a permanent place in his physical repertoire, rolling back-to-front and front-to-back and pivoting all around. his doc said that he wouldn’t be surprised if it took him another month or more to sit up unassisted, because of the challenge of balancing his considerable length.

but one thing never changes: this kid is cute! i love how he smiles and laughs so easily:)

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it’s absolutely cliché, but i can’t believe it’s been half a year. (!!!) how is that even possible? should i continue with the “how time flies” parental lament?

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sometime in the early third trimester of my pregnancy with graham, we had almost completed the nursery and everything was looking good in there…but smelling a little too “new.”  (probably only to my sensitive nose. we chose non-toxic, zero-VOC everything.) i wanted to give the room plenty of opportunity to air out before bringing our little one into it, so we left the door open and the fan on 24/7.

the only problem with this arrangement was that our dogs had been the previous inhabitants of that room, and they were particularly curious about all the changes. while we have now successfully drawn an invisible barrier that they recognize, at the time they kept wandering in and rooting around in stuff. our temporary solution was to place graham’s inherited rocking horse in the doorway. it perfectly blocked the opening at doggie-height, while being low enough that the humans in the house could easily step over it to pass in and out of the room.

a pretty clever solution…that is, until you throw a clumsy forgetful pregnant lady into the mix.

one saturday i was headed into the nursery with an armful of books (what else?), and the pregnancy hormones must’ve fogged up my memory. (so nice to have that excuse, sometimes!) i obviously couldn’t see the obstacle between my burgeoning belly and the load i was carrying, and i didn’t remember it was there, so i hit the wooden horse with the full force of a pre-mommy in nesting mode.

my reflexes are usually pretty sharp, but those pesky hormones worked their special magic (again, a valid excuse, right?) and i went down in the most ungraceful slow-motion spill.

when i say slo-mo, i mean that it seemed to take forever before i was finally motionless on the ground. there were several moments of me alternately catching and losing my balance, and i could hear my grunts and gasps narrate the entire thing.

“oh! ugh! gah! oomph! engh! ouch!”

i went on like that for at least five seconds. the fall lasted long enough that i had time to hear my own gruff exclamations echo back and think to myself, you sound just like the grape lady.

seeing as you can’t hear my cacophony of guttural growling as i tell this story, and may not know of the grape lady, you may not be laughing just yet. but i am. sitting in front of my computer and laughing.

enter my loving husband. having heard the racket of bangs, bumps, and groans, he came to investigate. observing his pregnant wife lying in a tangled mess on the floor, the first words out of his mouth were, “did you fall, like, fourteen times in here? what an idiot. you sounded like the grape lady!” 

and even though i was bruised and sore, and a bit annoyed that he was not more concerned about me, i couldn’t stop laughing. the fact that he was thinking the exact thing i was, and that he said it so frankly, was so hysterical that soon my sides were sore, as well, from laughing.

long after he helped me up (finally!) and we went about our day, i found myself stifling giggles as i remembered how hilarious i sounded. it was just like this (about 15 seconds in):

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over the last year or two i’ve surprised myself with an enjoyment of running, even continuing to run up through the final days of pregnancy. after giving birth, waiting six weeks to return to vigorous physical activity was hard. then, when i got the green light, finding time to fit it in was harder. i needed a goal to make sure i didn’t let myself neglect the movement that makes me feel alive and energized.

so last sunday i repeated a feat that was a proud first for me last year, and ran 13.1 miles without stopping. it wasn’t the fairy-tale trip around the lake that i experienced the first time, but i finished!

it seems to be my m.o. to impair my race efforts with poor preparation. last year i set myself up by training too little, working on my feet the entire day before, sleeping only a few hours, and carrying an energy-zapping fetus inside me. since that race went so well (really), i suppose my confidence was a bit inflated, and i shrugged off my lack of conditioning this year. not that i felt invincible, but my body had recently impressed me with its stamina, and i trusted it to get me across the finish line again.

so, having run a total of eight times since giving birth (only one of which was longer than half the distance of the race), and carrying a sleep deficit that had been accruing over five months, i signed up to run the Strides of March Half Marathon a second time. the race was scheduled on my mom‘s birthday again this year (saint patti’s day), and so i set out to honor her with my commitment to finish strong.

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getting out the door at 6:30 am was a bit more challenging with a wee one in tow, and we arrived at the race site with only 25 minutes to race time. which is not really much leeway when you have to feed a baby and go to the bathroom before you hit the starting line. poor graham was so sleepy and bewildered that he took longer to nurse than usual, but he needed to tank up to last a couple of hours without me, and i needed to downsize to comfortably wear my sports bra. (ha!)

the line for the bathroom is always crazy-long before a race, but it’s a must. so we all stood in the queue and lee pinned the number on my shirt while my dad secured the beacon to my shoe and i hopped around squealing about how cold it was. i was wearing a jacket and leggings, but decided against the hat and gloves, assuming i would warm up once i started running, as usual. (the previous day had been shorts weather, after all.)

i finally made it to the front of the port-a-potty line with about twenty seconds to the gun. i took care of business as quickly as possible, burst out the door and ran straight across the starting line. i waved to my three boys as i joined the last stragglers at the back of the crowd of racers. (so much for warming up/stretching.)

it only took two miles of facing the icy forty-degree wind to realize that leaving the hat and gloves was a baaaaad idea. my sleeves weren’t long enough to cover my hands, and my fingers were already painfully numb. i noticed a woman in front of me take her gloves off and clip them to her hip, and lusted after them for a full mile before working up the courage (desperation) to catch up to her and ask if she would like me to carry her gloves for her. thankfully, she generously allowed me to borrow them for the remainder of the race. i’m not sure how i would’ve fared without them.

the first six and a half miles were great. my nose was frozen and my hands were still a little cold, but i felt energetic. dad and lee had driven to the turnaround to cheer me on, and i flashed a smile and thumbs-up as i passed by. i rounded the halfway point at the exact time of my split last year, and headed into the second half thinking i could kick it up a notch and possibly beat my previous finish time.

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around mile 9, i lost all hope of setting a personal best. i was getting tired, and putting one foot in front of the other took more effort with each step. for the first time in my running career, it felt like my legs would fail me before my lungs. it didn’t help that everyone in this race was so fast. last year i passed at least a handful of people; this year it seemed everyone was passing me! (even though i was running around a 9:30 pace!)

by the time i hit mile 11, i reallyreally wanted to quit. my muscles were thoroughly fatigued and moving forward had become like dragging lead through molasses. i was forcing my legs onward by sheer will, praying they would not collapse under me. i tried to motivate myself with thoughts of my mother’s strength and visions of my family waiting for me at the finish line.

i had planned to sprint the last quarter-mile downhill to the end, but even as i saw the flags drawing closer and my cheering section jumping up and down, i wasn’t sure i could make it. i tried to turn on the afterburners, but the result was just me throwing myself toward the finish in the most awkward and laborious “run” that you’ve ever seen.

as soon as i cleared the finishing area, i allowed my legs to buckle and sprawled my weary body flat on the grass. through the stars spinning around my head i could see my family’s feet surround me and heard my sister squeal, “you did it!” yes, i did. and by some miracle i clocked in at 2:06–only two minutes over my previous time!

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my one word for 2013 is grace, and i’ve certainly had to extend it toward myself over and over in the past few months. as the balance of my life continually shifts to accommodate the blessings and challenges that come my way, i know i’ll need an extra measure of grace to navigate the adjustments with aplomb. i hope i can continue to push toward my goals even when i want to quit, while having the grace to accept a less-than-perfect finish.

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graham is still engaging with the world around him more every day and drawing me in as well, but in my fifth month as someone’s mother, i am struck by the realization that

motherhood is perplexing.

continual unseen development inside his little body and mind means that baby behavior is both unpredictable and inexplicable at times. just when we think we have our baby all figured out, something new comes along to confound us.

never-ending decisions with countless options leave us more confused with each choice we have to make on products, practices, and plans. i have a feeling the bewildering and conflicted information overload never stops as a parent.

unrestrained sheer joy displayed by my son at just the sight or sound of his favorite people/toy/song is inspiring even as it is baffling. i can’t help but wonder how life was ever complete without him.

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sometime during the fifth month our baby gained solid neck control, an adorable laugh, better hand coordination, a pound and a half, and another quarter inch in length. he is thisclose to rolling over on his own, but i’m not in any hurry for him to be more mobile. if he wants to just chill awhile longer, that’s fine with me.

i’m so grateful that i get to spend my days with him, and feel fairly fluent in his language of distinct cries, coos, grunts, and whimpers. at least in the daytime. our laid-back baby is an angel while the sun is shining, but has become mysteriously cranky after dark. when he suddenly wakes just an hour after bedtime for some obscure reason and is not easily soothed, lee and i are left scratching our heads. at this stage the fussiness could be any number of invisible issues. (teething? growth spurt?) here’s hoping this particular perplexing aspect of parenting passes quickly.

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another puzzling question is how parents manage to keep enough hard drive space to accommodate all the pictures that demand to be taken. because he just never stops being so darn cute all the time!

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graham also got to spend some good time with family this month. how lucky he is so to get lots of love and cuddles and play from his uncles and aunts and cousins and grandparents (and a few friends).

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i predict many milestones in feeding/mobility/sleeping in the next month! not that i’ll ever be able to solve the puzzle that is motherhood.

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i could hardly believe he was actually here! we enjoyed our first moments as a family, and everything in the world was rainbows and unicorns…mostly. lee was trying to “un-see” the “volcano” of dark bloody fluid that came pouring out after the baby. (“it was like that scene from The Shining.”) and i was suffering the necessary forceful mashing on my belly to encourage the uterus to contract and shrink.

giving birth really is the most miraculous, amazing, thrilling…horror show. nothing can truly prepare you for the clash of carnal and divine. i pray get to do it again.

we spent some intimate time in relative quiet and rest and nursing and cuddling and photos and smiles that threatened to break our faces, then passed him to the nurses to weigh and measure and such.

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our family had been waiting patiently for about an hour since they heard graham’s triumphant exit wail, so we invited everyone in to meet the newest member.

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it was nearly midnight when we finally moved into our room for the night. the adrenaline was long gone and the sleepies were hitting me hard. but i was suddenly famished and found myself digging into the bag of snacks i had assumed i would want during labor. i ate and changed into clean pajamas and brushed my teeth, all while stealing long looks at our little miracle.

kel marveled at how quickly i crossed the room from my bag to the bathroom and back again, but as i bustled about i just assumed the tenderness hadn’t registered yet. i was a little stiff from a day’s worth of strenuous physical activity followed by a couple of hours of sitting still, so i decided to stretch my legs a bit before crashing. as i folded myself in half to touch my toes and leaned into a lunge on the bed, my sister gaped at me like i had no business doing that. she later told me, “it was like the stork delivered the baby!”

my recovery was honestly no big deal. i attribute this to the fact that i didn’t tear at all. which i attribute to my midwife’s skilled assistance and expert coaching on controlled pushing. plus graham taking his time, turtle-ing in and out forever. he gave me a slow stretch and himself a nice long conehead that i’m sure contributed to my fortune. with no injury to heal, it was just a matter of recuperating from the strain on my muscles and the “i’ve been riding a horse for days” pain in my sitz bones. my neck and back were more sore than anything else, and i felt pretty normal after a few days, save for the sleep deprivation.

after everyone left, i was overcome by exhaustion and fell into a coma that was instantaneous and deep. lee was essentially left alone with the baby, and barely slept all night knowing that i would most likely not wake for anything. thankfully, a nurse came back throughout the night to help us take care of graham’s needs, and the next morning i felt refreshed. (after a shower to rinse of the gallons of sweat i produced flushing out all the extra pregnancy fluid.)

the day was a nonstop parade of doctors and nurses and lactation consultants and hearing testers and administrative staff…until they finally let us go home.

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home sweet home

we praise God for our adorable blessing and for his wonderful delivery experience. thank you for joining in my joy and excitement with this story. it’s fun to share life-changing memories. i hear it only gets better from here…–

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the eager grandparents, aunts, and uncles hovered outside the door

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following kelleigh’s advice had definitely made a difference, i could feel it.

kel and dad left to get some dinner and meet up with jared and caris, and my midwife, leanna, came back to check if i was ripe and ready to push. after spending hours dilated to about 6 cm, i was finally at a 10! i zeroed in my focus on the real work of getting this baby out.

as i was gearing up with a few “practice pushes,” the room phone rang. i don’t remember it at all, but lee picked it up and hung up immediately. we found out later that our friends lyndi & wes had called the hospital to check on where we were, and someone had transferred the call to our labor & delivery room! evidently, lee had inadvertently left the line open, and they got to hear a few moments of serious coaching before they figured out what had happened and hung up.

i proceeded to push in every conceivable position for three hours. squatting, sitting, lunging, lying back, hanging on the bar, on all fours…at one point i was trying to gain leverage and power by pulling on a sheet (or towel?) that was anchored only by our sweet, petite nurse on the other end! (who, by the way, was with us the whole day and stayed hours after her shift to be there until graham was born. chelsea, you were awesome!)

leanna was wonderful, as well, and guided me through each set of pushes and positions with soft but assertive instructions. and all the while, the perfectionist in me was seeking constructive feedback. “am I pushing the way you want me to?” i repeated several times, as everyone else laughed at me for even asking as i bounced from position to position and refused to rest through any contractions. i was focused!

after about forty minutes of pushing, the top of his head made an appearance, but he stayed there for another two plus hours. leanna told me later that she thought he was going to come out sunny-side-up by the stubborn way he was resisting my pushing. it turns out he just had his head cocked to one side. but leanna never even hinted that i might not be able to deliver him naturally. one of the many reasons we are thankful that she attended graham’s birth.

so i pushed, and pushed, and pushed. but i didn’t feel tired. i was actually more energized as time went on and i got more efficient at pushing thanks to pointers from my team. both lee and i were grateful to have our doula macy there to support me physically with water and cool rags and bracing so that he could just be with me as emotional, mental, and spiritual support.

leanna must’ve thought i needed some motivation after a couple of hours, because she suggested they bring out the mirror so i could see how much graham was moving forward with each set of pushes (two steps forward, one step back).

now, i already knew the mirror was available to me, but had decided that i didn’t want to look. i could touch his head, i knew he was there. i was trying to protect my mental resolve. i figured i’d be fine managing the discomfort if i could concentrate on the task, but if i saw the process it would look like it hurt, and so i would feel pain. in the end, i couldn’t keep my eyes open and push, anyway. all i saw for a brief moment in the darkened room was the unidentifiable mess of body parts that is childbirth.

i’m glad this was my first experience with labor. with nothing to compare it to, i never got worried that it was taking too long or i was having to try too hard. i was just doing what i had to do, moment by moment. time stood still. leanna commented more than once that he was really making me work for it, but i didn’t think much of it at the time. lee (rightly so) was more concerned about graham, being cramped in the birth canal, than me. he told me later, “you were an animal, i knew you’d be fine. i just wanted him out of there.”

chelsea cheerfully pointed out how my belly was deflating as the baby moved down. all five of us were staring at my abdomen when my son gave me one last swift kick to the gut. we all gasped in surprise, and i savored what i knew was the last time i’d feel the familiar jab of his heel in my ribs from the inside.

by this time lee’s family had arrived and we had a small crowd pacing impatiently in the hall and cheering graham on in his epic exodus. but inside the room, we were oblivious to anything but the crazy ride we were on. the shakes had become uncontrollable, and started affecting my arms as well as my legs. at one point, my right hand shot out and smacked lee hard on the chest. the bewilderment on his face reflected my shock as i apologized with a feeble, “um, I didn’t mean to do that.”

each set of pushes now felt like it should be the last. for at least three surges in a row, i could hear the excitement in the voices of those who could see him emerging, and the stretching i felt around his head had reached the “ring of fire” point. i turned to lee and whispered, “pray!” to which he answered emphatically, “i am.” everything just felt like this is it!

and then it was. i heard leanna say, “okay, mama, reach down and take your baby.” my hands eagerly sought my son as i blindly grasped at his slippery head and shoulders. i prayed that hands much steadier than mine were spotting me as he slid out of my womb and into my arms.

he cried out loud and clear right away – which brought a rush of emotion for me and collective whoop from the eavesdroppers outside the door. (i’m sure their celebrating was joined by a heavenly cheer, as well.)

someone guided him onto my stomach, and we lay there, finally skin-to-skin. bon iver played softly in the background as i gasped over and over, “oh, baby! oh, baby!”

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first minutes of life

kelleigh snuck back in to take graham’s first photos, and i held him close as several sets of skilled hands wiped him down, checked him out, and cleaned me up (no stitches needed!). when the umbilical cord finished pulsing, lee had the honor of separating mama and baby (without passing out!). i put up with a few more contractions until i delivered the placenta and we were left alone for a few minutes (at last!).

and then we were a family of three.

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i’ll wrap up tomorrow with part 5 of graham’s birth story. the final installment offers all the gory glory that follows such a sacred yet corporeal event.

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fair warning: this segment is the longest by far and probably the least entertaining for those who are not into labor stories. but some of us are.

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let’s do this!

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lee arrived just before our birthing suite was ready, and i changed into my own gown before waddling down the hall (and around the corner and up the elevator and through more doors…why are hospitals built like labyrinths?!) to the labor and delivery wing.

our doula, macy, arrived as we were meeting our nurse and i was getting set up on the monitor. my midwife was busy attending two other laboring moms farther along than me, but she stopped by to say she would be checking back periodically.

after the requisite period of monitoring the baby, i was freed from the cords and dug into my bag for the arsenal of supplies i thought might help get me through the day: hair ties, lip balm, sour candies, a stay-cool neck rag, juices and light snacks, and of course my own pillow. (i ended up using it all, but not wanting most of it. the candy got in the way of my breathing, i preferred cold washcloths to the squeegee towel, and all i wanted to consume was water, water, water.)

lee connected his phone to our portable speaker to set a chill mood with some mellow tunes, and i headed into the bathroom to shave. (because, obviously, smooth legs are a priority on such a momentous day.) i remember being genuinely glad that the pedicure i got for the baby showers still looked good. being distracted by ragged toes when i should be concentrating on the Big Event would just not do.

kelleigh arrived in the early afternoon, bringing with her some last-minute essentials for me, her fancy camera, and the aura of maternal comfort i get only from my sister since we lost mom.

she periodically snapped some photos, as i’d asked her to, but i honestly didn’t notice one discreet shot. i paced the room hanging on to lee (the severe wobbling in my legs during contractions was such a shock to both of us), tried sitting on the birthing ball (which i loved during pregnancy and hated during labor), and relished the oh-so-perfect counter-pressure on my back and hips applied by macy (who had quite a few helpful tricks in her repertoire).

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my dad arrived sometime mid-afternoon, and even though the contractions were coming back-to-back by that point, i wanted to at least see him and tell him i was doing fine.

lee and i had decided that our families could come in and say hello and good luck if they got there early enough, but that when things got more intense it would just be the essential players: the two of us and our doula, and my midwife and her nurse.

my sweet sister, who had experienced childbirth for the first time exactly ten months earlier, had offered to play the role of doula during my labor, but i was worried that our personal relationship might get in the way of her effectively coaching me (by making either of us concerned about displeasing the other).

in the end, both my dad and sister were present until nearly time to push. kel was a huge help to me with her whispered advice and gentle encouragement. my dad sat quietly in the corner sipping coffee, and as weird as it seems to me even now, it felt totally natural. the birthing suite was large and had a seating area and table in the corner, and i ended up spending much of the time in the bathroom taking advantage of the tub, anyway. i certainly felt more comfortable with my dad there, rather than sitting in a waiting room alone and wondering if everything was going well.

sometime in the late afternoon bryan called kel’s phone, and when he realized she was with me, he asked to talk to me. through my concentration on deliberate breathing, i heard her say something to the effect of, “she’s kinda busy.” but after the wave passed i took the phone, anyway. i can’t tell you one word that we said to each other, but i do remember that i was glad to hear my brother’s voice and know he was thinking of us, and not annoyed at all.

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my cervix was not dilating very quickly, and i stayed at a 5 for a long time. i was anxious to try sitting in the bathtub, knowing that being submerged in warm water would take the edge off the discomfort, but we waited until i had progressed far enough that there was less concern of it stalling my labor. when i finally did slide into the warm tub, i really did find it soothing and had an easier time enduring the contractions.

but a still pool cools fast, and since i was continually leaking amniotic fluid (and such), it was soon time to drain and rinse the tub, anyway. i moved back into the main room for the obligatory period of monitoring while someone prepared a fresh tub.

when i headed back to the bathtub, the nurse attached the waterproof monitor to my belly and i moved back into my warm little pool of “ahh, thank you” to labor the baby down some more. but this time, the surges were so strong that i could not tolerate lying back and relaxing through them. i much preferred to kneel and lean over the side of the tub.

macy stayed with me while lee stole away to eat the pizza “i” had ordered from the hospital menu. throughout the entire day, she was fantastic at maintaining a low-key mood and talking me through all my questions about what was happening and what to expect.

according to the women in the room who had attended and given birth, my contractions were not typical. this was my predictable pattern => huge pressure accompanied by a full-body shudder, followed by a quick wave of nausea and a fire deep in my pelvis.

frankly, the best way i can describe it is pretty gross, but accurate. have you ever been sick and vomited so much that your stomach is still retching but nothing is coming out? for me, each wave felt like my uterus was dry-heaving in the other direction. without any intention from me, my body was doing just what it was designed to do and squeezing the baby down bit by bit. all i could do was breathe (grunt) through it.

i heard myself say more than a few times, “i just didn’t think that this is what it would feel like!” i’d prepared myself for acute pains in my belly muscles, not waves of pressure and shaking and nausea. (the queasiness and burning were seriously worse than the contractions, but i only threw up once.)

and every time a cycle would subside, i was overwhelmed by thirst. it became routine for someone to hand me a cup of water after each wave, even up to the very last push. i was just so thirsty!

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when i got out of the tub the second time, i paced the floor with lee a little, but then settled into a “comfy” spot sitting on the edge of the bed and leaning over the back of a chair. after i had maintained that pose for some time, kel finally worked up the nerve to tell me she thought i’d make more headway if i stood up and moved around. and of course she was right.

i got up reluctantly and went to the bathroom (because every contraction made me feel sure i was gonna make a mess, even though the sensation was coming from my cervix, not my colon.) when i came back out, it was clear that things had kicked up a notch. the pressure was ferocious, but i felt a surge of energy and adrenaline that had me bouncing on my toes and shaking out my limbs as if i was warming up for the big game. which i was.

part 4 of graham’s birth story will be up tomorrow. it gets real.

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the first half of my ninety-minute drive to the hospital was fairly uneventful. i called my client to tell her i wouldn’t be coming to work that day and ate a breakfast of granola bars, fruit snacks, and crackers from my food stash in the car. the activity in my gut didn’t seem very consistent, so i tried to calculate if i had enough time to go all the way home, get lee and the bags, then come back to the hospital (which would almost double my drive time).

about halfway there, i realized i needed to call lee and tell him to leave work. by the time i hit the metro, my pants were soaked through and i was timing contractions on my phone while fighting downtown rush hour traffic. with waves coming every 4-6 minutes, i was becoming increasingly impatient with the stop-and-go progress and other drivers’ rude oblivion to the fact that i was in labor!

the surges were more uncomfortable than painful, really, and just felt like fierce menstrual cramps. but i was very anxious to be out of that car, and debating when it might be okay to just use the shoulder to get to my exit a mile away. i tried to be patient as we inched forward and finally reached the off-ramp.

i pulled up to the hospital entrance, one hand digging at the quarters in my cupholder for something to tip the valet. i slowly extracted myself from the car, bracing for an oncoming contraction. the attendant was kind enough to wait until i had composed myself to approach me for the key. i was suddenly horrified at the state in which i had left the driver’s seat.

unable to think of anything to say except, “i’m sorry, the seat’s a little damp,” i dabbed futilely at the puddle with a napkin before throwing him an apologetic glance and dashing through the revolving door. (a friend brought my car home from the hospital, but i’m told it was definitely parked by someone who was trying desperately not to touch the seat.)

for some reason, they keep the ob triage buried deep within the maze of halls at the hospital, but getting rapid help with directions was no problem for the pregnant lady with the wet pants. the triage nurse checked me and confirmed that i was dilated to a four and fully effaced – membranes broken, obviously – and so she began the whole process of getting me into a birthing suite.

as i waited, i called lee a few times to tell him things that needed to be added to the hospital bag that had only been half-packed. the poor guy kept begging me to stop adding to the list of To-Dos and To-Brings and just let him get to the hospital already. i guess the nesting instinct dies hard, huh?

by this time my contractions had begun to feel more like an intense pressure deep in my pelvis. i was so surprised that i didn’t feel any pain in my abdomen. i was waiting for sharp pangs to radiate from my back around to my stomach, like i’d heard they would, but all i had was a powerful sensation of something pressing hard on my tailbone. (in short, it felt like a baby trying to get out of my body. .

already, my legs were trembling involuntarily with each wave, and the nurse reassured me it was a good sign that the hormones were flooding in and i was progressing quickly. i was left alone to wait, and for the first time i had nothing to distract me from the full realization that this is happening.*

but even as that reality set in, and up until the point that i delivered my son, i didn’t have an, “eek, the baby is coming!” thrill like i expected to. each moment was simply what i was doing at that time. throughout labor i never felt apprehension or a desire to quit, as i thought i might. what i felt was focus. pure focus on the goal.

look for part 3 of graham’s birth story tomorrow.

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*as evidence of the degree of my disbelief up to that point, allow me to submit this shocker: i hadn’t even called my sister! when lee called her just to say, “i’m on my way to the hospital, see you there!” she had no idea what he was talking about. after all, she had just seen me the previous night when i stopped by on my way out of town. the last thing she said to me was, “just think, in two weeks you won’t be pregnant anymore!” i remember thinking, yeah, that sounds about right.

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the day before graham arrived, ten days before his due date, i decided to drive to my hometown to work one final day with an author there who was thisclose to finishing her book. my hunch was that baby boy was going to hang out in there a few days longer than calculated, anyway, and i wanted to finish up this editing job.

i spent the evening visiting my amazing titu and enjoying a late-nite chat with my dad. i finally went to bed around midnight, not even sorry that i would be probably be tired at work the next day.

i woke at 3:00 am with a full bladder, cursing myself for forgetting to set my pee alarm. my bladder was bulging, again, but this was the first time that i could not urinate no matter how i positioned or pressed. i was freaking out, running through worst-case scenarios in my head as i did acrobatics around the bedroom, trying desperately to make the baby move.

after practicing every prenatal yoga inversion i could remember and pleading out loud with graham to please move, i was finally successful. relieved (in more ways than one), i went back to bed about 4:00 am hoping to at least doze in an upright position for a few hours.

but every time i shifted a bit, i felt a little gush down there. my thoughts immediately associated this with my crazy condition and the previous scary incident. great, i broke my bladder. now i’m peeing myself.

and then i realized that every time i felt a little leak, i also felt kinda crampy. hmmmm, were the gushes and cramps coinciding with my movements or coming periodically? i gave up on sleep and got up to evaluate.

after about half an hour of occasional cramping and padding my underwear with tissues to determine if it smelled like urine (pregnancy is so glamorous), i texted our doula an “is this anything?” message, not wanting to alert too many people if i was just gassy and incontinent. i didn’t know.

when a response didn’t come quickly, i decided to called my midwife. she recommended that i at least come to the hospital and get checked out. she knew. when she said to bring my bags just in case, i didn’t tell her i was actually an hour and a half away.

i delayed calling lee until around 5:30, when i knew his alarm would be going off, anyway. still not sure i was experiencing the real thing, i told him to go on in to work and just be on standby. he knew. when he seemed shocked that i hadn’t yet woken my dad, i didn’t tell him i was thinking about going to work for an hour or two before heading back.

uncertainty played around in my mind as i gathered my things. everyone says you’ll know a real contraction when you feel one, right? if my water had broken, wouldn’t contractions be more intense? this has to be a symptom of my weird bladder issue. but the gushiness and crampiness continued, so i put on a huge pad (that i’m sure had been in the bathroom drawer for at least a decade) and prepared to head back to okc.

my early-bird dad was already awake when i went downstairs. (little did i know, he had been up for awhile wondering about all the movement he heard upstairs.) i told him about my change in plans, assuring him it was probably a false alarm. he knew. when he told me to let him know what they said at the hospital, i didn’t tell him that i was thinking about just heading home and waiting it out there.

even as i pulled onto the highway,* i still wasn’t convinced i was in labor. that would soon change.

check back tomorrow for part 2 of graham’s birth story. it gets better.

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*i’m still surprised that my dad let me leave and didn’t insist on driving me himself. way to play it cool, dad.

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i had no idea this would be my last baby-belly photo (38 weeks)

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when i imagined what childbirth would be like, i suppose my vision was pretty cliché. i figured i’d spend the last few days before my due date wondering if that would be The Day. when the time came, i thought i’d labor at home for awhile, while lee timed contractions and we excitedly asked each other “is it time to go yet?” i hoped i’d have the bags all packed and waiting by the door, and we’d strategize which route to take based on the traffic that time of day. maybe i’d even get a dramatic water-breaking moment like they do on tv. buuuuut life is unpredictable, right?

let me take a moment here to say that my pregnancy was a breeze. my biggest complaint was not being allowed to sleep on my back or stomach, and i felt pretty normal even through the third trimester. let that be an encouragement to all the pre-preg girls out there who, like me, have read the loooooong list of horrible symptoms of pregnancy and assumed it would be nine months of misery. while it’s true that most women endure at least a handful of chronic discomforts and strange or gross indications of pregnancy, it doesn’t have to be miserable.

however, in the last two weeks of my pregnancy, things got weird.

my long baby had grown to the point that he seriously crowded my bladder (normal). but when i would lie down at night, he would shift so that he shoved my bladder to the side (not normal). i would wake up with two bumps rather than one – one for the baby and one for my distended bladder! (when i showed the gruesome photo to my very experienced midwife, she actually pulled the Seinfeld-esque, “um, i’ve never seen that before,” and hurried out of the room to consult a specialist.)

it was such tight quarters in there that graham’s little head actually pinched the urethra closed when he was in this nighttime position. this made it impossible empty my bladder in the morning without manually pressing on it from the outside to force the fluids out. kinda funny, kinda scary, really annoying.

the specialist was concerned enough for the long-term health of my bladder and urinary tract that he had me setting an alarm for every two hours at night to get up and pee, and measuring my output to make sure i wasn’t getting overfull. how unfair is it that all that extra pregnancy fluid is processed more quickly while you’re sleeping?

when the oddity persisted, i resorted to “sleeping” sitting up and leaning over a tower of pillows to prevent the baby from wedging himself in the corner of my belly (i was paranoid that reclining would give me a posterior baby.) i guess that’s what karma gave me for having a breezy pregnancy, right?

i know we’re bordering on TMI, now, but all these gory details are necessary to set up why i spent more than four hours in early active labor before i realized it.

stay tuned for part 1 of graham’s birth story tomorrow morning…it’s a good’un.

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four months into my experience as someone’s mother, i am still invigorated by getting to know my son more every day, but now i can see that

motherhood is engaging.

i’m drawn into each new day with a transformed sense of purpose, as if i’m finally flexing all my muscles. i wake with an energy that has nothing to do with how much sleep i’ve had. 

i connect more with other mothers now that i can relate to the endless source of conversational topics. i can see, now, why moms never seem to tire of comparing notes and swapping advice and stories.

i’m absorbed in a dialogue of coos and sighs when my son interacts with me as i talk to him. my whole world stops and my complete attention is gripped by his audible response to me.

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graham has really started “talking” and responds to us with breathy “hoos” and “ahhs.” i love this preview of his sweet little voice. i would feel rather special when he talks to me if he didn’t also find the toys hanging above his play mat equally good conversationalists.

sometime over the last month he opened up his fists and started using his hands. when he sits propped up and clasps them together he looks so grown up to me. and he is growing up – or he’s growing long, at least. he is now more than 40 percent of of my height (26.25 vs 62.5 inches) and he fully fills out the length of his six-month clothes.

and now for your monthly dose of grainy phone photos.

where do they put the “pause” button on babies?

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however, i’ve found that there are a few cautionary tips missing from the standard literature on breastfeeding, and i feel it is my duty to pass along this information.

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what the experts say: breastfeeding can be a sweet time of bonding between mother and baby.

what they forgot to mention: don’t try to connect with your infant by talking to him while he is feeding, as he may decide to stop drinking and smile at you while the milk is still flowing, drenching you both.

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what the experts say: nursing mothers need to consume extra calories to produce milk for the baby.

what they forgot to mention: refrain from snacking while nursing. crumbs falling on your baby’s head may cause him to jerk his face upward while still latched, and this is to be avoided at all costs.

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what the experts say: with practice, baby’s latch will become more effective and comfortable.

what they forgot to mention: even professional athletes miss the target sometimes. if something should go awry on the approach and your baby’s latch lands an inch or two off-mark, try to keep your screaming at a volume that won’t damage the baby’s hearing.

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maybe these advisories can make it into the next edition of The Breastfeeding Book and help other new mothers out there.

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being a parent will probably always be exhausting in many ways, but in the third month as someone’s mother, i also find that

motherhood is invigorating.

my body is energized by a rush of endorphins every time he captivates me with his delightful grin. it doesn’t hurt my ego, either, that he smiles in recognition of me, now.

my spirits are lifted by small successes and steady progress in parenting. it’s amazing what proficiency in bathtime and baby cries can do to brighten your mood.

my imagination is excited by thoughts and prayers about who this baby boy will grow to be. his personality is showing stronger all the time, and i’m eager to see him exhibit his individuality more and more.

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we’re still taking loads of grainy phone pics, because while i try to keep the schmancy camera handy, it’s not always within arm’s reach like the phone. at least now i try to follow up with high-quality shots if the moment doesn’t pass too quickly.

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but we may be stuck with gritty photos in all poorly-lit settings for awhile, because using the flash either makes him cringe like a vampire in the sun…

or go bug-eyed as if someone got a little aggressive with the diaper cream.

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month three is my favorite so far.

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i really enjoyed choosing one word to sum up my goals for 2012, so this year i’m joining the one word 365 community again in focusing on a single word for 2013 that “becomes the filter through which you see and live your life. It steers your decisions and guides your steps…a word that can be a reminder, a nudge. A word that you can reflect on, that will challenge you, that will inspire you…”

again this year, it seemed as if my word chose me, rather than the other way around. it’s been on the tip of my tongue for the past few months, as each new day as a rookie mom takes me on a wandering route that was not necessarily the one i mapped out.

my one word for 2013 is GRACE.

at first i was hesitant to settle on the word that, when referring to the unmerited favor of God, has such a divine and eternal significance. but, ultimately, it is the word that best describes the way i need to view and live my life this year.

GRACE is compassionate, GRACE is giving, GRACE pardons missteps without condoning complacency. i want to be forgiving of imperfection while still fostering growth – in myself and others.

GRACE is balanced, GRACE is nimble, GRACE handles tricky situations with finesse. i want to be light on my feet so that i can adapt to what will surely be a year of rapid changes and unexpected detours.

i believe approaching my life with GRACE will benefit my relationships, my personal ambitions, my professional goals, and my spiritual growth.

my hope is that keeping this focus will help me live my life with elegance and poise, even as i stumble through my first year of motherhood. 2012 is the year i cultivate the mom inside me – the type of mom worthy of the legacy left to me. flexible. generous. kind. GRACEFUL.

“Grace is the empowering Presence of God enabling you to be who He created you to be, and to do what He has called you to do.” ~ James Ryle

image via promisedgrace.com

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being a mom continues to surprise me in big and small ways, but after two months as someone’s mother, i can also confirm that

motherhood is exhausting.

it’s physically tiring, of course, to devote so much energy to meeting another human’s every need. add to that sleep deprivation and the stress of a learning to nurse comfortably and…i don’t think this is new information, here.

it’s mentally demanding to read, learn, talk, think (and worry) about all the things that could potentially harm my baby or his growth if i am not vigilant to protect against them or promote the proper development. i only thought the info-overload during pregnancy was overwhelming!

it’s emotionally draining to love someone this much. i feel like my heart is being stretched every day.

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when i feel sluggish, i usually turn to movement to get myself energized again, so the fact that running was off limits for awhile was very disappointing. i spent six weeks waiting and sighing and tapping my toes and checking the calendar, anxious to get to that six-week mark so i could be cleared by my midwife to run again. my body was itching to get moving, and just walking was not doing it for me.

THEN, six weeks rolls around, bringing with it a completely different baby, and all of a sudden my energy is zapped by sleepless nights and rocking and shushing and singing and standing on my head or whatever-works-to-make-the-crying-stop. thankfully, this fussy stage seems to be fading, validating the dreaded 6-8 week period that has been every bit as trying as we were warned it could be.

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in general, graham’s days are pretty cushy. he gets to go back to bed after breakfast, take a scenic ride around the neighborhood in the afternoon, and snuggle with dad every evening.

the weather has been so unusually nice that we’ve been savoring leisurely daily strolls for weeks. i keep waiting for winter to arrive and break up the party, only to enjoy an encore of sunny 70-degree temps. i’m truly grateful for the chance to get outside and let the fresh air clear some of the fog from around my tired brain.

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thanksgiving gatherings this month brought the opportunity to finally introduce graham to some very important people, and he spent the week being cuddled by family in three different cities.

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when you’re only two months old, you have a lot of “first” experiences. for graham, this month included his first bedlam game, during which he might have encountered his first curse words.

as you can see, he didn’t get to choose his allegiance. we’ll see who he roots for as he grows, but either way, he’s been born into a house divided.

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in my first four weeks as someone’s mother, my impression of the role is that

motherhood is surprising.

i was sure my baby was going to arrive fashionably late, but evidently he is more punctual than his momma. he decided ten days early was his time and caught me totally off-guard.

i thought i would want to broadcast my son’s arrival from the top of every social media mountain, but blogging and facebook were the farthest thing from my mind. all i’ve wanted to do for the past four weeks is cuddle and coo and nurse and stare in awe at this amazing little person.

i felt certain that physical recovery would be hard and adapting mentally & emotionally would be easy, but i was wrong on both accounts. my body felt mostly normal after a few days, but i was so not ready for the rush of love, fear, giddiness, uncertainty, contentment, worry, sadness, and gratitude that came home with this handsome little man.

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i also assumed i’d be capturing all sorts of stunning photos of our newborn on our fancy new DSLR camera, but instead i’ve been snapping tons of grainy pics on my phone, because i can’t be bothered with manual settings when he’s just so adorable all. the. time.

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i feel like i can already see his personality starting to show, even while i can admit that his ever-changing facial expressions probably have little to do with real emotions at this point. his dramatically animated face provides endless entertainment around our house.

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thank you all for your well-wishes, prayers, support, and friendship during this momentous time for us. your sweet comments, encouraging advice, and nagging for photos ( ) have meant so much. the overwhelming kindness and generosity of our family and friends has been one of the best surprises of parenthood.

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i did it. it happened. i’m a mom. it seems impossible and completely natural all at once. i am thrilled to announce the birth of our son on october 10, 2012. he made his grand entrance a bit earlier than expected, weighing in at 7 lbs 4 oz and measuring 21.3 inches.

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we are still so in shock that the little person we’ve been preparing for is actually here, yet it feels so comfortable that we are now a family of three.

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* all photos by leslie clowers photography.

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after i finished my first half marathon at 9½ weeks pregnant, i announced to lee as we left the race, “now i can just sit on my a** and get fat for 7 months!” and i kinda meant it. not having any idea what pregnancy would be like for me, i had moved my 2012 running goal up to the soonest race possible to squeeze it in before running would surely not be an option, right?

but 27 weeks later, i’m still lacing up my newtons to hit the pavement (or treadmill) once or twice a week. quite the pleasant surprise for me.

when others hear that i’m still running well into the third trimester, i usually get two questions: “why?” and “how?”

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WHY i continue to run:

• it feels good – i feel better when i’m active, pregnant or not, and i wouldn’t do it if it were uncomfortable or painful. i don’t let myself get out of breath or overheated. i try to stay very in tune with my body and what i’m feeling, and so i run when it says, “run!” (and stop when it says, “stop.”)
• i run better than i walk – when i walk for longer distances (i.e. for exercise), i can feel myself settling back on my heels, jutting my hips forward, and assuming the pregnant “waddle.” when i run, i can move my center of gravity forward and keep my hips and spine aligned, which keeps my back from getting sore.
• it keeps me regular – this may be t.m.i., but my non-pregnant self is a well-oiled machine when it comes to moving the goods through the system. my pregnant self…a little less so. a quick run every now and then keeps me from getting bogged down. all other exercise is much less effective.

HOW i continue to run:

• i don’t run as far or as often – with the exception of my 13.1 mile race, before i was pregnant i was running six to eight miles a 2-3 times a week. now i only run about three miles 1-2 times a week, and that is usually with a bathroom break or two .  the last time i felt like running five miles was at 34 weeks.
• i wear a support belt – around 30 weeks i found i could go farther without the bathroom urge if i pulled the baby off my bladder a bit with a supportive maternity belt. i also felt that he had grown big enough that wearing a belt would give him a smoother ride, no matter how improved my running form is.
• i only run when i feel like it – i thankfully have not struggled with fatigue or sickness throughout this pregnancy, but some days – or weeks – i just don’t feel like it. so i don’t run. i’m not doing this to accomplish a goal or prove something to myself. it’s simply what my body wants to do.

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i’m not the first or last pregnant woman to continue running into the third trimester. in fact, those ladies are my inspiration. i did my research on necessary precautions, cleared it with my midwife, and decided i’d take it day by day. i’ll concede that i’ve had the advantage of milder late summer temps (for OK) and a flexible work schedule that allows me to run whenever i feel the most energetic, but i honestly didn’t think i’d still want to run at this point.

when so many of my familiar postures have been inevitably altered (sleep positions, pulling my knees up to my chest, bending over to tie my shoes…), it’s nice to feel like i’m carrying myself completely “normal” for half an hour. we’ll see how many more miles baby graham and i will log together…

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*disclaimer: the photo above was taken 3 weeks ago. my belly is considerably bigger now.

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today, on the day we’ve been married exactly six years, we’re also exactly four weeks from arrival of our first child. (or his due date, at least. )  the timing of this next chapter opening for us feels just right, even though we had no specific plan.

tonight at dinner i asked lee where he thought we’d be in six years, and neither of us could really say we’d imagined that far on our wedding day.

well, here is where we are:

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and there’s no other place i’d rather be.

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as you might’ve guessed from the sneak peek at his wall of books, i wanted to build on the theme of reading and children’s literature.

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a friend painted a personalized mural of the giving tree for us and i ordered custom knobs from etsy with images of favorite storybook characters. my crafty sister made a book mobile (that still needs to be hung ) just by looking a examples online.

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this is my new favorite place to be – reading a book to graham in our fluffy orange glider.

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for years – decades, really – i’ve been collecting children’s books and YA literature, mostly because i love kid lit.

as time has passed and family-growing hit my “someday soon-ish” radar, i knew that i would want these books displayed prominently and overwhelmingly in my eventual baby‘s room. I started collecting a few stuffed characters to correspond with my faves (winnie the pooh, curious george, courdoroy, madeline, olivia, knuffle bunny, and more…) but my vision for a smattering of floating shelves around the room was too small for my excessive collection of books.

enter pinterest.

when i saw this pin of an elizabeth sullivan design, i knew it would become a reality in my baby’s nursery. i loved the way the books were displayed with the cover facing out, just as i had envisioned, and the narrow ledges were more ideal for this than a traditional shelf. the total effect was dramatic and fun – just what i was going for!

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i found step by step instructions for copying the concept from kara’s korner and enlisted a little help from our handy friend, jarred. in no time, 6 eight-foot ledges were hanging on baby graham’s wall!

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i could hardly wait for the paint to dry before loading them with colorful books and characters! this is just a fraction of the books i will rotate onto the shelves.

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i hope to cultivate a love of reading in my child(ren), and it seems my firstborn may not have a choice in the matter.

thanks, pinterest, this project turned out better than i could have imagined with my own inspiration.

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fearless *

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“a date on the calendar only has power over you if you let it.“

my husband’s gentle but emphatic encouragement shows his characteristic wisdom. i’m not sure exactly why another anniversary of life without my mother has me so out of sorts, because it’s really no different than any other day, but for some reason the milestone can effectively cast a cloud over my entire week. i think it is because the date is not just another reminder of her; this day–this week–two years ago is practically the only unhappy memory i have of her.

because almost all reminders of my mom evoke wistful smiles or all-out grins.

even the ones that reduce me to a blubbering mess. i went to see the movie Brave a few weeks ago, by myself. it’s a good thing the theater was nearly empty, because i would have certainly disturbed any moviegoers nearby. the story centers around the relationship between a mother and daughter, and theirs was so similar to the closeness i shared with my mom that i was overwhelmed by the intensity of my emotions and cried through most of it. sobbed, really.

but the tears were intermingled with laughs and warm feelings as i recognized myself reflected in the heroine every time she said “mo-om!”

when the mother character found herself in a position of needing to rely on her daughter for knowledge crucial to her survival, the familiar mother-daughter dynamic that was portrayed on the screen was a bittersweet reminder my last of our last years together.

while the movie wrecked me and temporarily sharpened the “missing her” pangs, it did so in a way that brought to mind sweet memories and filled me with gratitude for the amazing relationship i had with my mother. in the movie, the girl had to be brave, but in my life, it was my mother who exemplified this trait.

“Trust in ultimate victory gives ultimate courage…Real courage embraces twin realities of current difficulty and ultimate
triumph.” – Max Lucado, Fearless, Ch. 13

my mom displayed unfaltering courage in the face of difficulty, and it inspires me to do the same. her awe of Jesus fueled her courage and positively impacted so many people. i know i have a long way to go before i can truly emulate her like i want to. to truly be brave.

*the image above was created by the talented traci martin (charcoal drawing from a photo) for a project of the Visual Arts Ministry at CCC. my mother wrote Exodus 15:26 on a beam in the unfinished new site of her church and traci’s mom captured the photo. traci titled the piece “As Awe of Jesus Expands, Fears of Life Diminsh.“

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my posts have not been outstanding, influential, or at all consistent, but i’ve loved doing it. each year my writing has  evolved with my confidence as a blogger and the happenings of my life.

the first year was all about fun and silly subjects. blogging was new to me and fairly new to the web, and the novelty was more of a draw than the chance to offer quality content. the second year was limited to an occasional release of emotion while my family felt the intensifying of one of the hardest ordeals we’ve had to endure. in the third year my words became much more reflective and profound as i grasped at the threads of meaning and purpose surrounding my grief. and the fourth year has been more about trying to share something that might be of value to others now that i’m beginning to emerge from the inward-focused phase of my healing process.

i want to continue in this direction and use okieOLIO to contribute positive, and helpful, and authentic thoughts to the online community, and foster the opportunities for discussion and interaction in this space.

who knows what the fifth year will bring? big life changes, that’s for sure. i’m looking forward to continuing the conversation with you all!

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photo courtesy of zombeia

i cannot say enough about how excellent my dad is…so i won’t even try. beyond the cliche, words are really not sufficient to describe someone who is the perfect example of everything that is admirable in a man, husband, and father.

he is unwaveringly loving, supportive, selfless, kind, generous, slow to anger, fun-loving, adventurous, creative, encouraging, serving, honest, wise, and faithful. even when rattled with the life-altering loss of his soul-mate of 40 years, his best qualities came out stronger than ever. he is certainly building a legacy for his current and future grandchildren. i’ve never met anyone else whose positive traits show through seemingly 100% of the time. and i spend a lot of time with the man.

and that is something i am so grateful for — continued dates with my daddy. except now i get more than lunch. we’ve had awesome opportunities for extended road trips and exciting destinations in the past few years.

riding the slopes at keystone

lake tiak o’khata

a2a run for mercy

spero race for refugees

hoover dam

grand canyon

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HAPPY FATHER’S DAY, DAD! I LOVE YOU SO MUCH!

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“A righteous man
who walks in his integrity -
How blessed are his sons
after him.”
(Proverbs 20:7, NASB)